


because you fervently hope so

by chocolatebun



Category: MapleStory
Genre: Friends to Enemies, Frostbite, M/M, Sharing Body Heat, albert and ark get stuck in a cave together but still don't talk out their feelings, because what do you expect? communication after centuries of pining?, one day we will get to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25716382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatebun/pseuds/chocolatebun
Summary: “You shouldn’t show your back to an enemy."“You did the same, back in Verdel.”“Back then and now, you are no threat to me.”
Relationships: Albert | Albaire/Ark (MapleStory)
Kudos: 24





	because you fervently hope so

**Author's Note:**

> *clown noises at writing fic no one will read* anyway hi i'm in albert/ark hell and i sure hope someone reads and likes this

The labyrinthine cavern expands and twists out into empty paths as Ark takes a step forward, gravel crunching under his boots, puffs of dust softening the impact. Besides the sounds he’s caused, no other flicker of life emerges to make itself known. This far below the surface, it reminds Ark of the ruins lurking below Verdel’s bleak surface, only without the shattered remains of the High Flora’s foiled plans.

Unlike in the past, Ark doesn’t need an eon old reminder of what Gerald Darmoor’s army has done, not when one of their colonels is right behind him. 

They had met again in Maple World, while Ark hunted for traces of the High Flora’s plans and as if fate itself had played a hand, Albert had showed up. Ark knows he would be lying to himself if he wasn’t happy to see his dearest friend again, joy bitterly muted by the distaste shining clear in Albert’s gaze.

(Ark ponders on sleepless nights, how he had woken up with a monster possessing his flesh, tampering his arm while poisoned words lurk in subconscious depths. He wonders if Albert had been just a few seconds later, would the ritual had succeeded completely? Mind intact but flesh turned fully Spectre, a grotesque appearance to match the inside and out.)

One look, and Ark knew nothing had changed from the last time they met. The moment had passed, the bubble of happiness that had cloaked Ark momentarily an ephemeral dream. He steeled himself for battle, temper quick to rise at his friend’s apathy, heated words choking on his tongue as Albert proclaimed his actions useless. Their inevitable fight had been staved off by the earth shuddering, cracks slashing through the area, gaping maws opening up beneath the snow to swallow them whole.

Now they were both down here, the atmosphere thick with tension as Ark’s temper gave way to more pressing matters, neither willing to make the first move. Even as he dearly wishes to knock some sense into his old friend, Ark concentrates on scanning what little of his surroundings he can see, lit up by summoned amber orbs.   
Albert’s movements are silent, predator like as he steps forward, closing the distance between him and Ark till they’re mere breaths apart, their shadows mingling together. Ark’s exposed flesh burns from the sensation of being pinned down, nerves tingling down his spine at Albert’s purposeful actions yet to his true colours.  
This close to each other, it’s another stark reminder of the maw of time that has passed. They had been of similar height and build back in the Academy. Now both in statue and war experience Albert has changed, outgrown him by leagues. 

Even so, Ark won't give up.

Ark wonders if he is wrong to let his guard down, if Albert has indeed changed since they last met, only to become the opposite of what he foolishly hopes. Changed enough to surprise attack Ark from behind, to run him through, to step on his cooling corpse as Albert returns to the High Flora as he’s done all these years, centuries even, while Ark was unconscious. 

He wants – those days fooling around in the academy, sharing aspiring dreams during meal time, late night talks as they drift into sleep – to be wrong, even as the Spectre’s lesson mingles in his mind.

Albert is the first to speak, voice cool and clipped, carrying through the emptiness to mingle in the air.

“You shouldn’t show your back to an enemy.’

Ark waits. Waits for Albert to willingly speak barbed words into being, to further widen the yawning gap between them, former friends turned foe.

But those words don’t come, and so Ark returns them.

“You did the same, back in Verdel.”

“Back then and now, you are no threat to me.”

Albert is so close, close enough his words ring in Ark’s eardrums and yet he feels lifetimes away.

Ark takes a step back, his own expression radiating anger and thankfully not hurt against immovable green. He doesn’t understand Albert’s purpose, his taunts in contrast with the Albert in his memories, the one always there for him.

“If you have time for snide comments, figure out a way to get out of here.”

“There’s a breeze every now and then. A gap from the outside has let the wind’s currents through. We just need to find it. What was your plan, dare I ask?” Albert states calmly, as though he’s reciting a lecture and not trapped underground with an enemy. His eyes narrow as he scrutinizes Ark’s face, reading his familiarity like an open book. 

“It’s a far more sensible solution then blundering around blindly in the dark, sapping strength casting magic to force a way out. Only a fool would expend such energy under unknown circumstances.” Albert’s plan has sense in it, and that makes Ark seethe further. He’s not that idiotic, and well, Albert was trapped down here with him, wasn’t he for all his wings and trained reaction times?

“Since you have such vast knowledge oh great colonel, why did you get caught in the earthquake? Why didn’t you just escape using your wings?” The retort is childish, and Ark almost regrets falling for the bait even as Albert declines to answer, frigid stare becoming displeased once more.

“Forget it. Let’s move on and find the exit.” Ark takes the lead, concentrating for the faint air currents, not looking back to see if Albert will keep up his pace. The Spectre would croon for violence, blood for blood down here where no one can witness, but he isn’t the Spectre. He has to keep moving forward, to keep toiling in preparation of the day he faces the High Flora on the battlefield once more.

* * *

  
It feels like its been hours.

They still haven’t found the exit, and despite the frustration that had fueled him so, Ark can feel fatigue settling in his bones, further magnified by the cold that needles him throughout the labyrinth. He overused the Specter’s powers fighting monsters before Albert had arrived and that comes back to bite him, a steep reminder that he’s still not fully in control. The bruises the ground had gifted Ark with when he fell down into solid snow promise a sore night and following day, if he manages to get out of this situation without fighting Albert to the death.

The tunnel they’re walking in widens into a clearing with two exits and Ark examines it. Rotten wood is evident, most likely from an avalanche bringing them down to rest. Ark debates whether there have been people here that brought the wood for fuel as the fallen temperatures remind him, but casts the thought away. There’s no opening to let the smoke flow from. If there was anyone before, they’ve been gone a long time. 

  
It’s a shame though they can’t have a source of heat. Ark’s vividly aware he’s under-dressed for the minus degree temperatures, his hands and legs numbed over. Military training hadn’t prepared him for surviving in frozen situations. Ark doesn’t even think he can feel his ears anymore and is about to reach up to check, when Albert’s voice reaches him.

“Ark.”

“What is it, Albert.” Ark turns back to see Albert dragging a heap of wood over to the center of the clearing. He clears the ground, obviously uncaring of any other option Ark could have to offer.

“Let’s camp here, for rest.”

“You want to start a fire? Depriving our limited source of oxygen while we’re trapped underground?”

Ark stares at him in incredulity even as wisps of smoke start up, aided by Albert’s fire magic.

“We’re not completely blocked in, the smoke will escape. Unless freezing to death is your preference.”

  
_Tough words. You don’t even look cold._ Ark viciously mutters in his head. Albert looks downright cozy in his form fitting uniform, a far cry from the snow soaked through modified uniform Ark wears. Ark hasn’t agreed to stopping yet, but Albert seems unconcerned, sitting down with legs stretched out as the small fire merrily burns. Ark sits opposite down, part of him relieved to take this opportunity to dry his uniform. His stomach is empty, but Ark can deal with that. He seeks to distract himself, and sneaks a glance at Albert. With the fire flickering against him, Albert seems younger, harsh expression mellowed as his eyes lid beneath thick lashes.

The hesitant peace this interlude has cast over them is surprisingly pleasant, and Ark welcomes it. He’s reluctant to break the quiet in fear of them going back to earlier position, though there’s so much he wants to know about Albert, about what happened to him after he stopped the ritual, about his role in the war, about their promise. 

…He won’t answer my questions.

Ark’s sure the Spectre is laughing at him even as it watches inside him, that Ark hasn’t buried one-sided hope away. He should know better after seeing the subtle hints of the High Flora’s treacherous plans in Maple World, after undergoing their experimentation himself.

He should know better but he wants, wants so desperately to hold onto his dearest friend again.

“I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when you’re ready to go.” Ark announces to the ceiling, lying down on his back. The cold bites at him through his sodden clothes despite the fire, but a wave of tiredness lulls him away and Ark shuts his eyes.

“Alright.”

* * *

“Ark.”

Someone is calling him. 

_“Ark.”_

A flick hits his cheek and Ark groans, struggling to open his eyelids which feel swollen shut. Why does his body feel so heavy?

“Ark, you dummy, you complete fool. _Wake up_.” Another sharp flick greets him and Ark hisses, eyes blearily opening. His head is spinning and his whole body refuses to wake up. A burning palm presses against his cheek and then his forehead and Ark flinches away from the heat, albeit to no success.

“You’re frozen. What were you thinking, going to sleep with soaked clothes?”

  
Albert. It’s Albert’s voice.

“…Albert.”

Ark’s head spins, as Albert ignores his feeble protests in favour of dragging his unresponsive body closer to the fire. 

Ark’s eyes are so heavy, weights pulling him back under. He closes them, welcome darkness enwrapping him till scalding hands cup his cheeks and pressing circles into them _hard_. Ark nearly screams at the burning pain, which suffices to come out as a mangled groan. He forces his eyes open. Albert is hovering over him, formerly composed face whitened with fury as his arms hold down Ark, needles stabbing into Ark’s face from the insistent rough press of Albert’s hands. 

“You’re killing me Albert…”

“I’m saving your life. Don’t you dare fall asleep again.” Albert doesn’t stop there, after he’s done half kneading Ark’s face off. Ark dimly watches, dull throbbing pounding through his head as Albert yanks off his gloves with white teeth before casting them aside. He doesn’t waste any time, proceeding to work on the laces of Ark’s boots, removing them and his socks off unceremoniously. Instinctively Ark tries to curl up, cold reclining from the harsh but warm heat as Albert wraps his limbs in a cloak. When Albert’s nimble fingers reach for his uniform’s buttons, then alarm bells start ringing in Ark’s mind.

“What are you even doing…”

“Your uniform is soaked through. You won’t get warm with them on.” Albert doesn’t listen any further to his feeble protests and rolls Ark onto his side, a firm hand pressed against the small of his back to steady him. For all of Albert’s cocky words, Ark senses something off even with a head full of fog as Albert gingerly props him up, taking care not to rip the side with the Spectre arm.

Ark opens his mouth, and dumbly closes it, ignoring the aches as his body sluggishly heats up from the fire. Albert sets him down again, the trace of his touch gentler now as he lies him down. This was kind of weird, his mind provides him helpfully. But. Albert makes sense. It made sense right? Albert’s words…

Albert's hurried actions pauses when he's managed to roll Ark’s pants up till calf length, the sodden material twisted in his grasp. Ark limp as a noodle, watches his friend. Albert’s forehead is creased, worry lines faintly appearing. He seems uncertain, of what to proceed next with.

Ark smiles, a funny gladness tickling him. He could get used to seeing Albert uncertain.

Albert catches wind of his silly smile and glares at him. It’s no load off Ark’s back, whose smile grows boarder.

“Ark, do you think there’s anything to be happy about this?”

“No…” _You’ll get old fast, if you keep frowning like that._ Ark wants to say, but swallows them down.

“Good.”

Ark blinks owlishly as Albert begins undoing his own uniform. What was Albert doing, he wasn’t the one with potential frostbite?

Albert swiftly shrugs off his outer coat and attire, rolling Ark onto the soft fabric, before stripping off his inner shirt, leaving him bare but for black pants. Vaguely Ark registers, although it shouldn’t surprise him anymore, that _oh you’ve really grown up since back then, huh._

“Now what are you doing?”

“Body heat sharing. You would know of it, if you paid attention during lessons.” Was the terse answer. Ark wisely doesn’t say anymore as Albert lies down next to him. Albert is a furnace, packing heat into Ark’s numbed flesh from where they’re pressed against each other. He’s facing away from Ark and Ark can’t quite put his finger on it, on why Albert is going to such lengths. 

“Now you can go to sleep.”

Silence lasts between them once more, a familiar dance.

Ark squirms against the cloth entrapping his chest and legs burrito style, inadvertently brushing against Albert’s frame and ah, he can feel Albert’s shoulder blades tense against his own, the slight rise and fall of his frame with each breath Albert takes.

Ark's back is warm but his face is hot. Tingly even.

“Stop fidgeting. Sleep.”

“Albert.” 

A huff is his only response. Falling back into drowsiness despite the weirdness of this all, Ark is determined to convey his gratefulness at the very least.

“Thank you...I was cold. But not now. You're warm.”

“…”

It may be be a futile attempt, but Ark carries on. Once he’s awake again, they’ll be back to being enemies, not friends.

Still.

“Back then too I…”

Ark can’t hold on any longer and as his eyes flutter shut once more, lashes heavy and sleep lulled, Ark thinks he hears Albert reply to him in a soft murmur, Albert shifting closer to him, a hand hesitant at first before gaining confidence ruffling through his soft locks, but anything more is lost to sleep’s embrace.

* * *

The next morning, Ark finds himself in one of El Nath’s ubiquitous inns, blinking awake to hot red bean soup and worried admonishments from the housekeeper in charge.

**Author's Note:**

> Ark: ?? What happened last night after I met Albert??
> 
> Spectre: I didn’t see anything. It’s been wiped from your mind and mine. I refuse to say anymore.
> 
> [I’m begging you if anyone read this and or is a fan of Albert/Ark or just them in general please come and talk to me/DM at twitter im so desperate to talk about them, I will go on my knees for crumbs pls ;A; ](https://twitter.com/casterbun)
> 
> I wanted to write Albert cradling Ark and or emotions, but you know. Baby steps.


End file.
